Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kosovo and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Lakeside to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
The Martian,
Gabor Szabo,
H. Thieme,
Sun Ra,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Blossom Toes,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Seeds,
The Tremeloes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Blackbyrds,
Cybotron,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Shoche,
Wings,
Soulsonic Force,
Lower 48,
Scratch Acid,
Drexciya,
Minnie Riperton,
Harmonia,
Pere Ubu,
Boz Scaggs,
Joe Finger,
Flash Fearless,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rapeman,
Surgeon,
Dead Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
The Black Dice,
Slick Rick,
Malaria!,
Blake Baxter,
MDC,
Sonic Youth,
Loose Ends,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Velvet Underground,
Television,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Neu!,
Amon Düül,
Ronan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minny Pops,
Ken Boothe,
Mad Mike,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joy Division,
Flipper,
The Blues Magoos,
DNA,
The Motions,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mandrill,
Pagans,
Q65,
Ultravox,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deepchord,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.